Bound
by TornadoSoup
Summary: Set after Skyward Sword. When a spell goes askew that he can't take back, Link finds himself tied by magic to a certain Demon Lord, who's about as happy with the situation as Link is. (Ghiralink. Potentially will feature mild violence, sexual stuff and ZelGroose, in no particular order)
1. Chapter 1

Link took a step outside the village gates. He made himself take deep, controlled breaths.

Today wasn't his day. He was at his wit's end and couldn't take it anymore. If he had to spend another minute inside the village he was going to break down.

He took another step. Soon he was walking, brisk-paced and purposeful.

Stars, it wasn't just today. It wasn't his _year_. Everything, since the day of the Wing Ceremony, had been pitted against Link. Or ripped away from him. And leaving the sky, leaving everything he'd grown up around...

Nobody knew. Nobody had a clue how much everything had impacted him.

Link ran into the woods, not sure where he was going but not stopping to worry.

 _He had much worse things to worry about. Like his new job._

He recognised these parts. This was the part of the Faron Woods where Skyloft had landed. The forest was too dense here to build something safe, not when nobody knew the land or what really lived in these parts. That's why they'd migrated to more a open area.

Link walked up to the statue of Hylia that had watched over Skyloft during his childhood. She was gazing down at her chosen hero with a warm smile, like she was happy he was visiting. She clearly didn't realise why he was there, he thought, slightly bitter.

He didn't want to resent Zelda - who shared the memories with the Divine woman depicted before him - but he didn't think it was fair that she was thrusting him into this situation. When had he ever shown a thirst for power, a desire to lead?

Why couldn't Groose be the co-chief? At least he'd be comfortable with the position.

Of course, he wasn't going to say that to Zelda. _She knew best,_ ask anyone and they'd tell you. If she had a plan - and they always worked out - then he'd follow it, he'd do what she asked of him.

Today may not be his day, but it could be the day he started to take the initiative.

Link pulled a dagger out of the little scabbard attached to his belt. He turned the knife over in his hands, letting the end poke into his fingertip as he rotated the handle with his other hand.

He'd recited simple blessings every day for most of his life; ritual and worship had been a large part of the culture on Skyloft, but this would be the first _spell_ he'd ever tried.

Instructor Owlan had proposed teaching him magical theory, but Link had never felt the need for it when caught up amidst the village's - _spontaneous_ \- move to the Surface. He knew the lands down here better than anyone - even Zelda, since she'd still been regaining her memories, so it'd been his job to scout out the place they were going to settle. Probably the whole reason he was in this mess now. The system that had worked perfectly well when everyone was squashed onto a floating island didn't function quite the same down here, and so a hierarchy had been born.

"Of course," Link said, voice pitched higher to (poorly) mimic Zelda's voice, "I can't do this without _you_ , Link."

He huffed, and looked away from the dagger, down at his feet. He needed help if he was going to co-lead the village with Zelda. Fi and Impa (and, less directly, Hylia) were no longer there to hold his hand through everything, and he didn't realise until after the Master Sword was sealed away just how much he'd been leaning on magical assistance to get him through everything. Sure, he'd been the one to drive a sword into Demise's chest but, well...

At least he'd managed to find this spell.

It had been found in a hurry - the library wasn't quite organised yet (and even so, the books didn't cover a very wide range) and Link had rummaged, half-panicking, in order to find something that would at least _point_ him towards magical assistance. The page he'd landed on had literally been entitled: " _Summoning Support_ ", and the description matched up to his criteria as best as anything he'd found so far, so he'd ran with it.

It seemed to match, anyway. He hadn't read it very thoroughly. He didn't have much time.

But this spell seemed simple enough (not that he'd know), and he didn't know what else he could do. He couldn't bring himself to talk to Zelda about this, for some reason. He didn't want to admit to a tiny, niggling part of himself that it had anything to do with her new status as a Very Important Person, because this was Zelda, _his_ Zelda, and that hadn't changed last year.

Link frowned as that annoying part of him piped up to argue, hand clenching around his dagger's handle. With his other hand he picked up a stick, crouching to draw a pattern into the earth at his feet, following the instructions from the book. This wouldn't take long, and then the spell would be cast, and he could head back and continue with his life.

He stood over the markings crudely etched into the ground, examining them before looking back at his dagger. This spell required blood; he'd chant the incantation, donate some physical material, and then a body would be manifested from it. It'd be a hollow vessel designed for a spirit, summoned by the incantation, to inhabit, and _wham_ \- he'd have a little helper to keep him on track.

 _Simple as that_ , he told himself, and curled his hand around the blade as he started the incantation, trying to distract himself from the sting by imagining a little sprite popping up out of the ground to greet him, maybe a small forest spirit - or even a fairy! Just a little companion to reassure him he's going the right way, like a familiar.

Scarlet dripped from his hand and stained the ground at his feet, not enough to splatter but enough to form a tiny pool in one of the ruts in the soil, which was now glowing. The blood started running along the lines Link had carved, completely by itself, making the Hylian blink in surprise, until the pattern in the earth was completely red and glowing like magma.

Link stumbled back as the ground under the carving shifted, and twisted, and swelled until there was a pillar as tall as him growing there. It grew a head taller before solidifying in place, and chunks of dirt started to fall away until the pillar more closely resembled a statue of a man.

Link blinked, and waited, but everything had gone still and quiet. He couldn't hear any more birdsong from the forest, and even the breeze had stopped, like the whole world was holding its breath.

The statue shifted. And started to crumble.

It was a shell. There was someone underneath.

The earth shell started to crack off in a way that reminded Link of when the Sky Temple had been revealed and bits of rock had just started falling away, dropping off into the sky. The dirt fell off neatly to reveal clean skin, ashen in tone, and pristine, snow-white hair. Link blanched.

He'd wanted a familiar, but not something _this_ familiar.

The man before him smirked, shaking his hair out in more of a theatrical way than to really get it out of his face, happy to let his fringe settle partly over one dark eye. He looked at Link almost smugly, and sighed like he was taking in a beautiful view.

"Sky child," Ghirahim purred, and Link almost had to repress the shiver of horror that threatened to crawl up his spine, "how _nice_ of you to call."

 **.**

 **So, fun fact, I watched Tim Burton's Corpse Bride the other day and it inspired this! Happy Halloween!**

 **Emphasis on** _ **inspired**_ **\- this fic's not really gonna be anything like that movie lmao**


	2. Chapter 2

There'd been a time when Link had gone to visit Fi at her resting place in the Sealed Temple, and as he'd walked through the great stone doorway, Demise had been at the other end of the room, standing over the remnants of the Master Sword and alive as ever. He'd turned to Link with eyes of brimstone and grinned - joyless, dark, evil. Ghirahim was there too, with the same malevolent look on his face, and it was the last thing Link had seen before everything vanished.

This was a recurring nightmare that had haunted his sleep for some time now.

Although he'd woken up in a cold sweat each time, heart pounding, Link had still always found some consolation by telling himself that he'd never see Demise, or his underling, again.

But now, stood before him, was the Demon King's same servant - his clothes were a little less flashy than Link remembered; looser fitting and longer, with no diamond-shaped holes. His cape was now a full-length cloak that hid most of his body until he extended a hand towards Link, cloak shifting over his shoulder to cascade down his back instead.

Ghirahim grabbed Link by the collar, who was caught off guard and dragged forwards. The Hylian clutched at his enemy's arm, desperately trying to prize him off, only receiving another smirk for his efforts.

"I would say this was a wise move on your part, starling," Ghirahim said, inches from Link's face, breath ghosting over his skin. "But I suspect that you didn't intend to bring me here, considering that look on your face."

Link held back from doing anything rash and simply sent Ghirahim a glare, holding his tongue. If he wanted to kill him, he'd at least level the playing field so that Link didn't die instantly. Link hoped.

"Such a foolish boy..." Ghirahim sighed, shifting his grip on Link's shirt before hesitating, considerate as he looked Link's face over, then pressed a kiss to just below his temple. "If you were always this helpless I might even find you cute," he chuckled as Link grunted and kicked out in protest, but pushed him back before the blond could land a hit, stumbling backwards and only just keeping his balance.

Ghirahim stood up straight and smoothed out his cloak, taking his time, gaze preoccupied by his clothes. He knew Link couldn't do anything, which made the Hylian glare harder as he readied his stance for an attack. He curled a gloveless hand towards himself, examining his fingernails, and breathed in slowly, savoringly, preparing to speak again.

"So, I'm dying to know why I'm here." Ghirahim said, and looked up at Link with a practiced dull disinterest. Then he looked away, and shrugged. "Figuratively, of course. Although I'm sure you know that." He rolled his foot in a circle, stretching it, before scraping the toe of his boot along the ground where the spell circle had been drawn. He looked back up to Link suddenly, eyes sharp and malicious, a wicked grin donning his features. "You have good blood, sky child," he said, and his tongue darted out to swipe across his lower lip, "you made this body very strong."

Link decided not to read into that, and continued to glare. The demon frowned, and folded his arms.

"I'm not a patient Lord. Spit it out."

Link wasn't sure exactly what to spit out even if he'd wanted to. Ghirahim was claiming that Link's spell brought him back, which he - horrifyingly - believed to be true, though Link wasn't sure how, and he wasn't about to confess why he'd cast the spell in the first place. He started to run over plans in his head - how he could get away, distract Ghirahim, disperse his body, maybe this was just another nightmare, he'd been having enough of those as it was -

Ghirahim cleared his throat, glowering, and stalked forwards to poke Link's forehead, hard.

" _Time_ is _ticking_ , boy," He snapped, pressing his finger into Link's head with each stressed word. The Hylian barely flinched, hand already reaching for his dagger as he'd been approached, and quickly rammed the blade forward into the demon's abdomen.

The pain was unbearable. It was like ice and fire and electricity had all suddenly surged into his wrist from inside, outside, everywhere, burning his hand in the process. Link yelled and dropped the blade, his legs giving way in a helpless means of escaping whatever had just attacked his arm. He cradled his wrist defensively as he shuffled away from Ghirahim, but as soon as the pain had started it was already gone.

Ghirahim was staring wide-eyed down at the Hylian, motionless and confused. His left hand hung at his side, his right poised in mid air, index finger still outstretched. His eyes scanned his surroundings while his body didn't move an inch, and Link could only watch as his enemy noticed the abandoned dagger on the ground, a frown slowly growing on his face.

"I'd suspect that you've been possessed, except I would have noticed by now if a demon was inhabiting that second-rate body of yours." Ghirahim scoffed. Link was the one frozen, now. "Unable to land a blow when an enemy is so close, _really_. You've lost the plot, haven't you?" He said, drawing his familiar black sabre out of thin air, a few translucent diamonds shimmering around it as it materialised. Link huddled backwards further and was backed up against a tree. Ghirahim stepped closer and leant forward, glaring. "The Great Hero of Legend, body strong but mind weak," he said dramatically, looking Link over before meeting his eyes and flashing that sharp grin again. "You may have destroyed the Demon King, but he took your mind with him. Now I can finish what he started." And with that, his blade was thrust forwards before Link could so much as flinch.


	3. Chapter 3

***Claps hands together eagerly* Friends! Firstly, I'd like to thank my first reviewers for taking the time to do dat ting (reviews are like chocolates to me; I get way too excited over them and they bring me great joy), so thank you!**

 **Secondly, just to clear something up: I promise ( and pledge life and limb;) ) to finish the fics I have started on here. I have no idea how many people are still engaged in my amateurish attempts at storytelling on this site, but I know that whenever I find out that one of the stories _I'm_ following will never be finished, I die a little inside, and I don't want to do that to anyone here *sends love***

 **Now that I'm on my break for the holidays, I'll hopefully be updating all my current fics. Downward Sword actually has a bunch of chapters waiting to be published and I'm just stuck on rewriting one part of the upcoming chapter, which is why it's been so quiet on here. I'm sorry for the delays!**

 **But now, without further ado, anothertypicallyshortchapterfromsoupchan**

.

This wasn't the first time Link had faced a sword. Stars, it wasn't the first time he'd been _stabbed_. He was familiar with the pain, was able to tune it out temporarily while he fought off whatever danger he was facing, but this feeling was new to him. Because now, he couldn't feel a thing.

Ghirahim stared back at him, eyes narrowed and inches from Link's as he stayed bent in front of him, sabre still in his hand, but by this point clearly not embedded in the Hylian's flesh. Link blinked, wide-eyed, and peered down at his chest - the blade had slid under his arm to stab into the tree behind him. Ghirahim let go of the hilt but the sword didn't shift at all, buried deep into the bark at Link's back.

 _He'd missed._

Link looked back up at Ghirahim, alarmed and confused, and wondered if they were both going mad. Or if this could all still be a dream, or he could be dead at this point - his heart was right _there,_ how had he missed -

Ghirahim tutted.

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, have you, gadfly?" He said, and Link could've sworn he almost sounded insulted. "You'll have to try harder than this if you want to eradicate me. You've just made things worse on yourself."

Link had no idea what was going on.

Ghirahim seemed to understand this, because next thing he was sighing exasperatedly, placing his hands on his hips.

"You do realise that if you kill me under this bond, you die too." He knew that Link hadn't realised it and it was clear in his tone. Link tried not to blanch.

He couldn't kill Ghirahim, because of the spell he cast? Then what was with...

He looked pointedly down to the sabre under his arm, then back up to Ghirahim, eyebrow raised.

The demon scowled. "I'm quite positive you're not mute, so I don't see why you can't simply voice your concerns rather than waggle those bulky things at me," he said, turning his nose up, and Link tried not to blush from the insult. Ghirahim ignored him and continued, "that was my revenge for your attempt at stabbing me."

Link eyed the sword again, and slipped a hand around the hilt, but before he could tug it out of its hold in the tree it dematerialised in his hand. He registered the faint _snap_ of the Demon Lord's fingers as it happened.

"I might let you off with just that, as well," Ghirahim said, smugness bubbling to the surface of his voice. "The look in your eyes was _delightful_."

Link refused to look at the demon now, focusing on standing up and dusting himself off. He could feel the eyes on him as he did, and he wasn't sure what to do to stop the faint flush of embarrassment that threatened to creep up past his collar. He quickly ran over in his head what Ghirahim had just said: Link's spell was the reason a demon was now stood here insulting him, and neither of them seemed to be able to kill each other.

"This is such a waste of my time," Ghirahim said suddenly, and brushed his cloak back over one shoulder in order to pivot away on his heel sharply, stopping with his back to Link to look out at the Sealed Grounds. "Given a couple more of those mortal years and the redhead probably would have summoned me instead, he seemed like a more power hungry type."

Link's eyes widened again. " _Groose_?" He said, disbelief raising his voice. Groose was probably the most helpful friend he'd ever had. Although, he supposed the last year had changed a lot of things... The other man hadn't even _been_ his friend a year ago.

Ghirahim was staring at him. What was with that look?

"Pardon you?" He said. And Link realised his mistake.

"I..." He started. _Shoot_. He reinstated his glare. "His _name_ is Groose."

Ghirahim considered him for a moment. Link fought the urge to close his eyes and cringe. He'd never been much of a talker, and he was quite sure that this was the first thing he'd ever said to Ghirahim, but a year of setting up the village had brought him out of his shell a little bit. He supposed holding his tongue wasn't as easy as it used to be.

"Hello to you too." Ghirahim completely ignored Link's point and continued, enthusiasm returning slightly at Link's slip up. "Listen, as much as I'd love to kill you - and I'm sure the feeling is mutual - neither of us can, so how about we find something constructive to do?"

Link was about to retort with a silent scowl, when his enemy's words finished processing in his head.

 _Neither of them could actually kill each other?_

"What do you mean?" Link asked, the incredulity obvious in his voice. He tried not to feel embarrassed as he noted how shocked he sounded, how naive that made him feel. Not that he should care if it was Ghirahim belittling him.

Ghirahim regarded him for a moment, and then put a hand on his hip. He smirked joylessly, mockingly, and Link couldn't tell if he was smug that he knew something the Hylian didn't or if he couldn't believe it and was just looking down on him.

"You think that your pathetic, fragile race would still be alive if the rule didn't exist?" Ghirahim spat. "Demons and spirits are far more powerful than creatures like you, that are bound to the physical realm. If your half-able forebears hadn't ensured the law of _Eandem Mortis_ when tearing open the fabric of your world to welcome us in, then you and your people would all be dead by now," he said, and he suddenly flashed an intimidating grin. "Or worse, our slaves."

Link tried not to shiver as the words sank in. The pair regarded each other for a moment as an awkward silence followed. The air felt thick with tension but it was clear that Ghirahim had been hoping for more of a response. The demon in question folded his arms, and started eyeing Link up and down, which made the Hylian shift uncomfortably.

"I would say your body was decent _slave_ material, but considering the mess you've locked us into, I can only be insulted by this." Ghirahim said, gesturing to Link.

Link, trying to ignore the last comment, focused on the first. He still wasn't sure what had happened.

"So... I've let you into this world," he checked, watching Ghirahim's face to check if he lied at any point, "and now there's some magical block that stops us from killing each other?" At that, Ghirahim's eyes widened, and he cursed.

"By the three Forces," he scoffed, eyes flitting around as if looking for some proof that this was all real. "Did you even read that book?!" And now he was glaring at Link, finger pointing to the tome on the ground. "We're _bound together_ , sky child. Master-servant. The whole caboodle." He spat it bitterly, clearly frustrated by having to explain a situation he'd (just like Link,) rather not be in. "And you're not going to have any idea what to do with this, are you?"

Link's heart plummeted. He'd made himself become _Ghirahim's master_?

And on top of that, he was beginning to hear something akin to Zelda's voice echoing faintly through the trees, not too far off.

Everything was about to be _much_ more difficult than before.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Can I just say that the latest reviews (as have the others as well, because you all li'l sweeties) made me so happy? Like when I first started writing Downward Sword my aim was to keep GhiraLink in-character but have a different dynamic because they'd never been enemies, but I think I ended up making them diverge from their personalities a lot;-; So it's basically such a relief to hear that someone thought Bound GhiraLink sounded like the canon characters, I think this could be a challenge for me and it helped to get some reassurance during the first few chapters:) I hope I can keep this up!**

 **.**

"You need to hide," Link said, turning his head in what he thought might be Zelda's direction. She was calling to him, and sounded alone, but even by herself she was the worst person to catch Link in this situation. His eyes didn't leave the trees as Ghirahim scoffed in reply.

"What good is that going to do?"

Link was confused, and panicked, and it was all he could do to make his voice firmer as he kept his eyes locked on the trees to the north.

"Zelda's coming this way." Was all he said. His point was clear, but it still didn't seem to sway the demon, who hadn't responded at all. Link turned to meet the glower on the taller man's face, and glared back. "Do you want to to be exorcised?"

It was a complete bluff; Link wasn't sure if Ghirahim could even _get_ exorcised if they were bound together. Ghirahim seemed to read it in his face, turning away with disinterest and gazing at their surroundings.

"I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to me today," he sighed. Link thought he could hear footsteps in the direction that Ghirahim was looking, a glint of something not well-meaning in his eyes.

End of his tether, he strode up to Ghirahim, right into his line of sight, planting his feet down assertively and glaring.

"If you lay one finger on her," he threatened, his own finger jabbing into the demon's chest. Ghirahim looked down, amused, at the invasion. "Or if you choose to harm any humans down here, I will not stop until you are sealed away for eternity." Link swung his finger to point to the forest behind him. "And if Zelda sees you, right now? It's going to help you in any way."

Ghirahim regarded him, mulling something over. "Now I see why you refused to talk back then," he said, although he rolled his eyes instead of staring Link down. "You're not a persuasive speaker, are you?"

Link didn't say anything else. Ghirahim waved a hand, as if gesturing for his human to lead. Link took it as the only opportunity he was going to get to avoid Zelda, so he started off towards the trees on the far side of the clearing, watching to make sure Ghirahim was in tow.

.

As much as Link would have liked to send his new familiar away by himself to never return, he knew that - especially while Zelda was so close - he was going to need to keep a close eye on Ghirahim. He led the demon further into the woods, only for their path to curve around Zelda's probable route and come out behind her, in the same place that Link had entered the woods not an hour earlier. He led them both back to his house with a pounding heart. It was more of a cabin than anything, one of many that were situated near the edge of the village (he'd wanted to be as close to the woods as possible).

Ghirahim had been uncharacteristically quiet as they'd snuck through the woods, but back at the house he began to pipe up tenfold, poking every one of Link's belongings and spouting out things the blond would _rather not_ have to put up with, such as "what an ugly carpet" and "where am I going to sleep?". Link found he couldn't give him the silent treatment for long.

"Do you even _need_ to sleep if you're a demon?" The Hylian snapped, fuelled half-and-half by irritation and curiosity. He supposed that, at least for tonight, asking questions wouldn't be so bad. Tomorrow he could find a solution to this problem and get Ghirahim out of his hair, but maybe for now this was an opportunity to find out some new and - dare he hope - useful information.

He could tell he'd somehow slipped up _again_ , as soon as Ghirahim looked at him, a smirk donning his features.

"Did I just hear you correctly?"

Link went blank. It was the only defence he could put up in time. Ghirahim laughed out his next words, stepping closer to where his human stood. Link backed up slightly.

" _Sky child_ ," he said, and bent to meet the other's eye level condescendingly, hands resting on his knees and an amused smile playing on his lips, like he was talking to an actual child. His eyes darted over Link's clothes, his hair, across his face - to his right eye and then the left, examining him. He seemed to be finding something hilarious. "This is astounding. After everything that happened when we first met, I don't think I would have ever believed you were this doltish!" His eyes landed on Link's ear, widening. "Your body isn't even as durable as I'd first thought; those are fireshield earrings, aren't they?"

Link smacked Ghirahim's hand away as he reached out to supposedly fiddle with the jewellery, glaring. He knew Ghirahim was just trying to break him down, to intimidate him, and he wasn't going to bite.

The man in question straightened up then, raising a thin, pale eyebrow. He folded his arms.

"I'm not a demon," he said matter-of-factly, and Link barely noticed his own mouth fall open slightly. "Aha, that's it! Stoic really doesn't suit you."

Link ignored the insult. "You're lying," he said. Ghirahim had to be lying. He was the self-proclaimed "Demon Lord" of what had been the Surface.

Ghirahim shook his head, looking smug.

"You see, demons are limited by a lot of things." He started, glancing off into space as he began to list off the first point on his finger. "For one, demons are born, and the body they're born with is the only one they get to have for the duration of their simple lives. My master - former master," he corrected himself, sounding indifferent, "was obviously an exception to this, but Hylia was involved for _that_." His tone made it sound like the goddess had been a disease. Link's hands, placed against the wall behind him, clenched into fists.

"What happened to your 'true' form?" Link asked bitterly, shoving past Ghirahim and sinking down in front of the fireplace, an excuse to turn away and appear preoccupied. He grabbed some tongs and turned the coal, ignoring the burning he felt in his face and legs from the proximity. Ghirahim paused behind him before answering, but Link could confidently guess that he was waving his hand dismissively.

"Oh, that was just my sword form. This is my true form, too." He said, nonchalantly. "I'm a spirit, sky child. I can sort of take whatever form I want."

Link thought it over. The spell he'd cast hadn't mentioned anything about summoning demons, but he also hadn't seen it specify that evil spirits were still in the mix.

If what Ghirahim was saying was true, though, then it explained some things.

"If you're a spirit," Link asked, trying not to sound invested, "then what happened to being a 'Demon Lord'?"

Ghirahim apparently had an answer for that immediately. "A title, I must admit. I commanded demons, I was never one myself, thank the gods," Link heard his footsteps draw near until they were beside him, and suddenly Ghirahim was crouching next to him, sitting on his haunches. His face came right up to Link's, who continued to stare into the fire. "The status is still valid, though." Ghirahim continued, tone now boastful and threatening. "You should consider yourself lucky that you get away with the way you keep addressing me."

Link stared into the fire until his eyes burned, and at some point Ghirahim seemed to have grown bored and moved away. He was relieved, until he saw that his spirit was now settled with a book in the old hand-me-down armchair in his room, a gift from Gaepora from when he'd moved out of the Knight Academy and onto the Surface. Ghirahim looked so wrong in that chair, that Link associated for years with falling asleep in next to Zelda as kids, small enough then to fit comfortably there together. It was an innocent chair, and now it almost seemed tainted.

It felt like the better alternative to Ghirahim continuing to talk, though. So Link began to tug at his shirt as he headed for his bed.

As he reached it, he felt dark eyes burning into his back, and decided against taking off the shirt.

 **.**

 **Sorry this chapter was a bit weak, the next two were really fun to write so I hope you'll like them more! Next update will be next weekend as usual:3**


	5. Chapter 5

**SORRY THIS IS LATE**

 **DEADLINES, DEADLINES EVERYWHERE**

 **BREATH OF THE WILD IN FOUR DAYS *INCOHERENT SCREAMING***

 **thanku for reading this story i really really love you happy late valentine's day**

 **.**

Ghirahim apparently didn't need to sleep. For the next few days, Link shut his eyes knowing that there was another person - albeit silent and unable to murder him - that was in his house. A person he did not like, or trust.

The spirit would spend the evening complaining, the night-time (mostly) reading, and the daytime lounging under one of the windows in the cabin, whichever one the sunlight was pouring through, which meant he rotated around the house throughout the day.

Link thought that, in a way, he'd acquired a large, creepy remlit. He'd never owned one himself but knew they were low-maintenance and liked warmth, and right now he couldn't tell the difference between that and his tall, obnoxious guest. Ghirahim would gravitate towards the fire in the evenings if Link didn't get there first, unable to be near him for too long, before hogging the bookshelf later (which the spirit had rearranged to be organised semantically, "You're a slob, too. The disappointment never ends with you, does it?").

Link supposed that Ghirahim _would_ be low-maintenance, if it weren't for the stress and the constant supervision on both their parts. Ghirahim seemed to enjoy making Link uncomfortable by any means, including staring at him wordlessly, but Link also found that he couldn't trust that everything would be alright if he left the spirit alone in his home. So he'd been in there with him for the last few days, analysing the spell book that led him into this mess in the first place for clues and giving Zelda muffled excuses through his door that "it's contagious! Yes, I'm going to be fine, I just need to sleep it off."

He tried his best to avoid conversation with his familiar, for fear of something uncomfortable being brought up that Ghirahim would use to belittle him with again, but it got harder to ignore him as the tension slipped away (by milligrams) each day. After waking up from his first satisfying sleep in ages on the fourth morning confined to the house, Link knew that he needed to approach this situation differently. He was getting _comfortable_. That wasn't good.

"I'm heading out." He said as he slipped on his boots, running over in his head what he was going to say to instructor Owlan when he found him.

"By yourself?"

Link turned around to see Ghirahim sending him a disgusted look.

"…I'll be back soon." He said, not so much a reassurance as a warning for his spirit to behave. He moved over to the chair ( _Ghirahim_ 's chair, now), where the spell book that'd caused all this mess lay, resting innocently, picking it up and heading over to where his adventure pouch hung on the back of the front door.

"You're so cruel!" Ghirahim whined as Link attached the belt around his waist, but his tone was mocking. Link didn't look up. "You're supposed to take care of me. I am your familiar now, after all."

Link kept his eyes on his hands as they fiddled with the buckle." You tried to kill Zelda," he said pointedly, ready enough to not miss a beat when responding.

"I was only doing my job," Ghirahim said, shrugging in Link's peripheral vision. "I wonder, though, if you and I would have ever crossed paths if I'd taken someone else." He stood, pacing thoughtfully. Link didn't respond, so naturally, Ghirahim continued. "You and the Goddess' echo seem to be quite attached to each other, but you don't appear to be invested in anyone else, gadfly. It almost makes me wonder," he stopped, turning to Link with his hands behind his back, bending to match his height again. "Would you have thrown yourself off the edge of your world to save anyone else?"

Link answered by promptly leaving, and locking the door behind him. He didn't like how Ghirahim kept doing that - making him question himself.

.

"…You're asking," Owlan said, frowning, trying to process the information, "if a person would be able to separate themselves from a spirit, if they had been bound together by magic?"

He let the question air for a moment, mulling it over, before peering upwards to give Link an odd look. The blond tried not to squirm in his seat.

"Just curious about some things I've heard while out and about." He said, the air around his head feeling unusually thin.

Owlan frowned thoughtfully again. Oolo the kikwi, bathing in sunlight on the back windowsill of the instructor's sitting room, sighed in his sleep and rolled onto his stomach so that the plant on his back could pop out. The faint echo of shuffling and leaves rustling did nothing to help Link's already crushing awareness of how deadly silent the room was. He'd gone to the wrong person, he was going to be interrogated, he –

"There are some bonds that can be broken, with a little untangling." Owlan mused, leaning back in his desk's chair and rubbing his chin, deep in thought. "I think I'd need to know the nature and circumstance of the bond to give you a specific answer, though. Do you have a particular spell in mind?"

Link's heart jumped at the possibility of never seeing Ghirahim again and having him locked away in the spirit world, but then again…

His hand rested on the pouch on his belt containing the spell book.

…Maybe he should do his own research. No risks of getting caught.

"Not really," he said. "It's all theoretical. I just thought I'd ask while I was passing by," he said, almost opting to laugh it off dismissively. Owlan seemed to understand.

"Ah, I see. Well, I won't keep you if you're heading somewhere. Thank you for coming to me,"

"It was nice to see you." Link said reassuringly, smiling, because it was. He'd never admit this to someone like Groose, who was relishing in his newfound independence since leaving the Knight Academy (along with Zelda and himself), but he missed his instructors a lot. Horwell possessed a kind of charm that made him able to make his classes seem like one large, stimulating group conversation, and Owlan always knew how to explain things to Link in a way that he could understand. They were both easy to talk to and had known Link for most of his life, so of course he'd be comfortable talking to them.

He was ready to step out into the sunshine outside and feel refreshed for the first time in a while, thanks to this brief conversation, when Owlan called after him, just as he reached the door.

"Link,"

Link stopped, hand reaching for the doorknob, and turned, suddenly tensed for a surprise attack. He sent his old instructor the most innocent face he could manage, cocking one eyebrow slightly like he'd noticed Ghirahim did when he was considering something.

There was a tentative, torturous pause.

"…Nobody you know is planning on getting a familiar, are they? Those things are awfully draining."

 _Tell me about it_ , Link thought, but quietly let the breath out that he'd been holding. Owlan took his pause the wrong way, shifting to face Link better in his seat.

"Whoever they are, they're better off without; most bonding spells of that sort are random and can pull all kinds of spirits out from around the place. Gods know what things have grown in this area since Demise was sealed away."

It wasn't just the Gods who knew what the local selection of spirits looked like, but Link decided that was best kept secret, too. He shook his head.

"I really was just curious," he said, before adding, "I think I want to start studying magical theory, finally."

Owlan's eyes lit up at that. "Well, if you ever need any advice or extra reading materials," he gestured to the miniature library that lined his western wall. "You be sure to stop by!"

Link wondered how much his parting smile had looked more like a grimace as he headed back to his house.

 **.**

 **I'll try to double update tonight but if I crash and it doesn't happen then chapter six'll _definitely_ be up this weekend and I WILL FOLLOW UP ON THAT THIS TIME**


	6. Chapter 6

Although the spirit tailored for the Goddess Sword had been good at calculating things objectively, that didn't lessen Ghirahim's own abilities as a rivalling serving spirit. And Ghirahim knew for a _fact_ , thanks to his own great mind, that he was beautiful.

Which is why he hated being cooped up in this stuffy little cabin, unable to flaunt his beauty at the world.

He grunted slightly from his leaning position against the desk-slash-table in the main room as he pushed away impatiently, anxious to fill his time with something productive. He'd already read half of the contents of his human's bookshelf, fiction and non-fiction alike, but he needed _variety_. He wasn't some simple-minded flesh dweller that could repeat the same action contentedly for days on end.

He made a note to tell the boy that, when he returned.

He _could_ just walk out. He'd noticed, from all the moments where Link would turn around to be startled by his close proximity or attentive gaze, that he hadn't quite figured out the extent of their bond yet. So it was more than likely that he wouldn't notice if his familiar took a little trip, as long as it wasn't too far.

Ghirahim, on the other hand - filled with a lifetime of wisdom from already having been bound to the Demon King in the past, knew how to utilise bonds like this. Link was at least a five minute's walk away, which was more than enough time for him to get back at his former rival and wreak havoc on this vulnerable, vulnerable village before anyone could interrupt. However...

He'd gravitated towards the window in Link's bedroom - the only south-facing one. It wasn't directly over his bed, but the sunlight was pouring in at an angle that spilled over his bedsheets, warming them. Ghirahim felt the glow of heat as he approached, and placed an outstretched palm on the covers.

They were deliciously warm, and he couldn't help but flop down onto the lazily-made bed for a moment, closing his eyes as the sun attempted to blind him. A sensation washed over him that felt like... Satisfaction and comfort. If those could be physical feelings. That's what his skin seemed to be feeling.

He breathed in, slow and deep, taking in the subtle, lingering scent of his - he tried to skip past the word in his head - _master_. The bed smelt like earth and tree bark, and possibly a hint of rain or sweat, he couldn't tell which. He exhaled, sighing. Breathing was very satisfying. He'd missed having a corporeal form, even if he'd only left this plane for a year, at most. But when you could do things like this...

He stretched, limbs reaching all four corners of the bed.

...It was definitely reasonable to miss it.

And now, with such a lenient master, he could probably try out a lot of things that he hadn't gotten to do the last time.

He inhaled deeply again, taking in the scent surrounding him.

...He probably wasn't going to draw attention from any other humans anytime soon.

.

Link stepped back into the house eagerly with a sack of groceries in-hand, just narrowly escaping the innocent questioning about his recent absence from several of the bazaar's shopkeepers.

He sighed as he threw his adventure pouch onto his bed across the room, and lay his grocery sack on a table, various foodstuffs tumbling out. He didn't notice as he turned away and rubbed his eyes, stung by sunshine, and looked about his house in relief. He didn't enjoy lying, especially when he liked the majority of the bazaar's staff. He wasn't good at it, and it felt so unfair when...

Wait.

"Ghirahim?" Link called, his heart stopping as he realised the spirit was nowhere to be seen. He took one step forwards, and froze again. Had he really left? The village was small, would he really have not run into him on his way back?

Of course he was gone, there was nowhere in the house he could be.

Breath quickening, jaw clenched, he threw himself over to his bed to retrieve his pouch again. Looking inside... Yes, his bomb bag was in there in case he needed to take drastic measures. He should - no, he'll definitely grab his sword on the way out -

"Oof!"

Everything went blank for two long seconds, eventually bringing Link back to barely any air in his lungs and his head on the floor. All of him on the floor. Ghirahim was pinning him down.

The spirit smiled down at him. Link's face twisted into an expression that he could only describe as, "what in the three forces are you doing?!".

"You need to be more vigilant, starling." Ghirahim said, amusement lining his tone. Link's fingers almost dug into the wooden boards he was lying on.

"Why were you on the ceiling?" He bit out. Ghirahim continued to smile, not moving.

"I was bored. You were a terrible host to begin with, but then you left me without company on top of everything and, well," he rolled his eyes and shrugged, like he was coming to the most logical conclusion. "That must have been the last straw for me."

Link barely resisted kneeing him in the crotch. _Would he even have anything there, if he's a spirit?_ His eyes flickered down between them automatically, before he caught himself and shut his eyes completely. He prayed his familiar wouldn't notice.

"Get. Off."

Ghirahim obliged and stood up smoothly, dusting his hands off before walking over to the table where Link had left most of his things.

He couldn't see what Ghirahim was doing as he stood back up, until the spirit turned around, an apple in his hand.

"You've bought an awful lot of fresh food for yourself, are we expecting company?" He asked the question with a suggestive tone, lips quirking ever-so-slightly into a smirk. Link sent him a withering look.

"You kept eating them. I bought more," he said dryly, moving over to a window to open it, before tending to the fireplace in order to start cooking. He didn't notice the look of surprise Ghirahim sent him, too busy savouring the lengthy pause that he hoped would be some silence.

"Pushover," Ghirahim muttered, loud enough for Link to hear, before biting into the apple and slinking back over to the bookshelf. It tasted sweeter than last time.

 **.**

 **How do write fluff**

 **Why do write fluff**

 **Next chatter is longer pls stay tune d**

 **(Why am I talking like this)**


	7. Chapter 7

The sun had gone down hours ago, which had turned the usually kind, late summer air in the village bitingly cold.

Link had made sure to sit close to the fireplace in his house, although not so close and comfortable enough that he fell asleep in front of it. He had been watching the flames all night until they'd burned out, stubborn as they were to die, and now all that was left was a pile of ash in the fireplace and a few blackened chunks of wood, still glowing crimson.

He made himself stand up, the fuzz that had gathered in his head (that he hadn't even noticed was there,) clearing up quickly. He turned around to see Ghirahim lying on his bed, a book opened above his head. The spirit didn't tear his attention away from it as Link paced across the room.

"I need to go out," he said, stopping by the door as he rooted through his pouch that had been hung up there. He'd cleared it of the bomb bag and had replaced it with a pair of special gauntlets, equipped at the knuckles with sharp metal claws that extended past the length of Link's fingers, perfect for digging. He took one out of his pouch and slipped it onto his hand to flex it, testing its flexibility, before turning back the open plan bedroom on the other side of the cabin.

He considered his familiar. Although the little disappearance earlier that day had worried him momentarily, everything had been okay. Ghirahim had stayed in the house (as far as he knew), and nothing had been destroyed. Still...

Ghirahim looked down past his feet at Link when the blond continued to regard him, before turning back to his book.

"You should come," Link pressed awkwardly, not sure how to phrase his request. He didn't really want to _ask_ Ghirahim for anything, so using 'could you' or 'please' was out of the question. Clearly this way of asking didn't work, though, because the spirit didn't move an inch.

"Why?" A challenge. Ghirahim knew that this was a request to follow and he was _deliberately_ sounding uninvested. Link clenched his jaw; Ghirahim had, for the most part, given up on tormenting him verbally when he realised just how good the Hylian's straight face was - but now that Link needed him for something, he was back at it. Link heard the bed's covers rustle as Ghirahim presumably shuffled into a more comfortable position, and he sighed.

"I have a job that needs doing." He said, and then, with a flash of guilt shadowed by impatience, he added, "Can you hurry up and follow me."

Ghirahim immediately stood, his boots echoing on the wooden floor as he approached, and Link couldn't help but avoid his eyes, feeling uncomfortable. He was beginning to discover some of the "perks" of gaining a familiar through this particular spell, though he wasn't sure if he, personally, could call them perks.

Ghirahim had to obey him - if the wording was vague enough then he'd probably try to turn it around on Link somehow, but for the most part he was at the Hylian's command.

He did _not_ like the idea of these interactions becoming a habit. Link, despite hating Ghirahim for all that he had done in the past, wasn't fond of this rule. He had felt similarly about his loftwing back on Skyloft - they had always been a team, he'd never seen the bird as his servant or something to follow his every order. If something ever seemed like too much for his mount to handle, then they'd work through it together until they were both comfortable. As much as he didn't want to work with Ghirahim, and didn't _trust_ him, the idea of telling someone what to do and not even giving them the choice to object made his stomach twist unpleasantly.

Another rule - that he hated even more, because despite the first one going against his morals, at least it was (and he'd never admit this out loud) convenient - was that they couldn't go very far from each other. Link had discovered this when trying to leave Ghirahim at a shrine in the Faron woods a few days ago while he went to seek advice from Faron, the Great Water Dragon, only to be pulled back by an invisible force. It had felt like a combination of walking against a very strong gust of wind, and every inch of his body being pulled on by fishhooks. Both sensations were unpleasant, unnerving, and had lead him straight back to Ghirahim, who was waiting for him at the shrine with a knowing, sadistic grin on his face.

Needless to say, he hadn't managed to talk to Faron recently.

Ghirahim had told him that the bond would be able to stretch further with practice, but Link wasn't keen on leaving the spirit alone near Zelda for a prolonged period of time, so both of these rules were causing Link to fall into his own downward spiral of turmoil.

"Why do you need to tend to this job this late into the night?" Ghirahim said, not exactly groaning but the complaint was still clear.

"Why are you bothered? You don't need sleep." Link bit back, still facing the door, although he tried not to sound too aggressive, to make up for forcing him to follow without a choice.

"You clearly do," Ghirahim said, and Link could hear the distaste in his voice as the door opened and they stepped outside. He imagined Ghirahim was wrinkling his nose up as he said it. "You look awful."

Link rolled his eyes and didn't say anything as they walked through the village in the middle of the night, and Ghirahim (thankfully) didn't pipe up either, until they reached the garden allotments on the edge of town. They were filled with the season's growing harvest - beans, corn, and a variety of squash, among other vegetables and fruits - except for a section in the north of the field, that had been completely demolished.

"Are you going to explain?" Ghirahim said as Link picked his way through the lots. He stopped at a patch of pumpkins that seemed to have exploded, and crouched to examine the ground. There were holes everywhere that were too small to be caused by mogma, who had already arranged a land agreement with the humans that gave them no reason to terrorise them anyway. Link hummed to himself as he confirmed the culprit in his head, and he heard Ghirahim sigh, which reminded him to speak.

"There was talk going around that something's been getting into Pumm's pumpkins. It sounded like a moldorm, but I couldn't be sure."

Ghirahim had paused to listen, then moved to sit on the fence a short distance away. He perched there gracefully, one leg crossed over the other and looking completely ridiculous and out of place for this late at night, especially in his fancy clothes. Link decided not to comment on it. Instead, he straightened up, fishing out the mogma mitts. He held them in one hand for now and grabbed the fence with his free hand to steady himself, and started stamping on the ground.

He didn't look at Ghirahim, but he could tell he was getting a funny look from him.

"What in the Goddesses' names are you doing?" He said, subtly gripping the fence as it shook a bit from the stamping.

"The vibrations will get the attention of whatever's down there," Link explained, trying to will the heat away from his face as he grew more self conscious. "Makes my job easier."

He still refused to look at Ghirahim, who was _still_ regarding him, and he found himself wondering what the spirit was thinking. He stopped his feet after a minute, satisfied that that would probably do the trick, and took his hand off the rickety wooden fence. He started to pick a splinter from his hand before he put the mogma mitts on, getting ready to dig the culprit out of the ground, when he heard a rustling behind him. He turned just in time to see a giant, centipede-like creature leap out of the soil and straight for his face.

Link dropped the gauntlets and grabbed the arthropod as it jumped forwards just in time, catching a mandible in each hand and trying desperately to keep them apart. They were razor sharp and cut into his palms immediately, and human blood flicked onto the ground as Link shifted his grip. He grunted from the pain, and the struggle of trying to keep it away from his face.

He heard footsteps amble slowly up beside him, and he dared to tear his eyes away for one moment to see Ghirahim standing there next to his head. He wasn't looking at Link, his gaze passing calmly over their surroundings.

"Odd location for a wrestling match, isn't it?" Ghirahim commented, and Link yelled as his grip slipped momentarily and the mandibles snapped down on his hands.

"Just get this thing off of me!"

Ghirahim seemed to consider, and Link yelped again as he managed to throw the creature off of him and kick it a bit away. It rolled and curled in on itself, before quickly darting back to finish its work. Link crawled away backwards, passing by Ghirahim, who quickly raised his hand and _snapped_ , and the moldorm screamed, its tail suddenly disappearing in a puff of smoke, the rest of its body following suit. No more than two seconds had passed when there was no longer anything where the threat had once stood.

Link sat there panting heavily for a moment, the adrenaline pumping through him already starting to fade, before he shifted position and hissed as dirt rubbed into the cuts in his palms. He pulled them up to his face and examined them, groaning as he noted that a mixture of moist earth and blood was spread all over his hands. With a wince, he pushed himself up off the ground to stand.

"Was that it?" Ghirahim said, a slight hint of amusement in his voice like this was all a game. Link restrained his glare, knowing there was no point in giving the spirit a reaction when he seemed to feed off of attention.

Moldorms were aggressive creatures that usually kept to themselves, so Link felt it was safe to say that his job was done after getting rid of a single one. He almost thanked Ghirahim for saving him, when he was reminded that he would have had to anyway if he also wanted to live, and even then he'd taken his sweet time getting round to it, so Link said nothing, and turned to go home, dreading having to clean his wounds.

.

"I've been wondering," Ghirahim started, as Link attempted to wind a bandage around his hand half an hour later, "if you're really the same human I encountered a year ago."

Link looked up from his work and slipped up _again_ , the bandage unraveling off his hand for the third time that night. He narrowed his eyes at the spirit.

"What?" He hissed. He was too exhausted for riddles, and too exhausted to restrain his annoyance any longer. He prayed Ghirahim would give him an answer quickly or he was tempted to throw a chair in his direction, even if it only meant they'd both get hurt.

"You handle things so _sloppily_ ," Ghirahim mused, like he was analysing a character in a book rather than talking to a real person. Link's eye twitched. "No matter how weak you've always been, you still managed to keep up with me as I travelled across the Surface. It was almost impressive."

 _And what was he supposed to say to that?_ Link was about to snap back a retort when Ghirahim interjected-

"Why don't you always have a weapon with you?"

Link closed his mouth and opened it again, before finally closing it when he realised he looked like a gaping fish. He considered Ghirahim's question, and had barely hesitated before he found his answer. The gauntlets he owned were his favoured weapon for tackling moldorms with, but he thought he'd make a jab at the spirit instead.

"It's easy to forget about weapons and fighting when life is usually so _peaceful_ ," he said pointedly, not looking at the spirit and opting to stare at the wall across from himself.

"That's a very foolish attitude that will get you killed."

 _Drat_ , he thought, and huffed, turning back to his bandage and tending to it with too much vigour, trying to look preoccupied. He heard Ghirahim sigh from his seat on the windowsill and get up to move across the room. Link startled as the spirit yanked the bandage away from him and crouched in front of him, taking his hand and holding it palm-up to dress it himself. He wanted to snatch his hand back and pull away, but at least his wounds were finally being covered. Ghirahim pulled the fabric tight across his hands, making the Hylian almost wince as the bandage was tied.

"You should always have some way of defending yourself, physical weapons just aren't practical sometimes." He said irritably as he moved onto Link's other hand. "Do you not know any magic _at all_?"

Link's face flushed with embarrassment as if he was supposed to. "No!" He said, trying to tell how uncommon magic-wielders were with the single word. He wasn't even sure that he knew any humans with Ghirahim's style of magic, the closest being Batreaux, who could hide or summon certain objects, but even those powers were derived from his initially demonic form.

Ghirahim gave Link a withering look that made his face flush with more embarrassment - the invasion of personal space made everything more uncomfortable - and then looked back down to the almost-bandaged hands.

"You're going to need to learn the _basics_ , at the very least," he tied the bandage on the emphasised word, probably to stress how fundamental this skill was in his book and how pathetic Link was for not knowing it. Link frowned.

"Great. And how exactly would I do that?" He said, snarky and mocking and sarcastic. It almost took him aback to hear himself speak that way - the spirit's bad vibes were already rubbing off on him.

Ghirahim let his hands go, and then regarded Link with a look of incredulity.

"I'm going to teach you, of course." He said, and then his lips turned up in a disbelieving grin. He shook his head, "Where did you think you were going to learn? Your schoolteachers?" He laughed as he stood back up to turn and walk away, and Link's eyes widened. His stomach lurched.

Had a demonic spirit really just offered to teach him magic?

 **.**

 **Finally back with more stuff!**

 **I don't know if I'll be able to keep updating stuff _every_ weekend because honestly, at the moment I'm very busy, and not very well on top of that. I still really love these stories though, so I can promise you I'll be continuing all of them.**

 **(Also I'm bringing a new fic out soon about canon/Downward Sword Ghirahim's backstory:3 I'm thinking of calling it _His Reflection in Metal_ , so keep an eye out if you're interested!)**

 **So, who's got BotW? I'd say I'm close to finishing it and oh, my god. I'm so in love with everything.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all who have left reviews so far! You're too kind and I love you. xox**

 **.**

"Can we just- _OW_ , would you _stop_ -"

"It's not my fault your hands aren't where they should be. Spread your legs more, as well."

"We've been at this for two hours-"

"And watch where your tongue is or you'll lose it this time."

Link groaned loudly. "You could start off with a spell that isn't _electricity-based_ ," he said exasperatedly, and was tempted to drop his defensive stance altogether and just give up, but he knew Ghirahim would just take the opportunity to hit him with another wave of magic. They were stood in a clearing in the middle of goddesses-knew-where, courtesy of Ghirahim for warping them somewhere where they wouldn't run into anyone.

Link had managed to avoid seeing Zelda since he'd cast the binding spell - it felt like an eon ago, now - though that was likely all thanks to her, probably humouring him to give him some space. Link knew that she knew asking him to co-chief had stressed him out, but she still hadn't taken the request back, so Link supposed that she was just biding her time to let him process the big news and 'calm down'.

He wished it was that simple.

Link bit down involuntarily on his tongue again as Ghirahim sent another electric shock towards him and it hit, coursing through his body like living poison. The sun had moved a significant distance in the sky since they'd started practising, not having taken breaks ( _"resting is for the_ dead _, starling"_ ), and Link was utterly exhausted. He could see Ghirahim was getting more and more impatient as the pain he inflicted also bounced back on him through the bond, as well, but his endurance seemed to be significantly higher than a human's. It made Link wonder with hope if that meant he'd managed to inflict more damage than he'd thought during their first encounters over a year ago, since Ghirahim had backed down so quickly back then.

"It's called negative reinforcement, and if you actually _concentrated_ then this wouldn't be so bad." Ghirahim scolded in a serious tone, and flicked another wave of magic towards Link, who dived out of the way just in time, not even bothering to block it.

"Why are you suddenly so keen to teach me this stuff?" Link yelled at him from his opposing side of the clearing. As he said it, a thought registered in his head: _maybe he was only doing this as an excuse to attack him. The defences he'd taught Link so far weren't really effective at all,_ he mused, _it could all just be for Ghirahim's satisfaction._

"I'd rather not be bound to someone who kills themselves just because they're faced by a threat with no weapon to hand," Ghirahim growled back, adding, "I can't think of anything more insulting than associating with something that preposterous."

Link mentally slapped himself for forgetting the initial reason this training had been proposed. Still, all that this magic practice was really doing was exhausting him. He fought to swallow his pride, before reluctantly speaking again.

"Is there not anything... More simple than this?"

Ghirahim lowered his hands, frowning, and relaxed slightly. "More simple than blocking basic spells?" He asked, and although his tone wasn't mocking, for once, Link still felt humiliated when it was worded like that. He nodded, though, giving in, and Ghirahim seemed to consider his question, before clearly coming to a realisation as he snapped his fingers theatrically.

He approached Link quickly, grabbing his wrists and pulling him down to sit on the ground opposite him. "You're clearly not built for being a vessel for magic; you're not a natural at this at all," he said, taking Link's still-bandaged hands to turn them over. The younger man winced, but tried not to react further, realising that, _okay, he would like to learn this stuff if there was an easier way_. He let Ghirahim control his hands, even though the extra pressure hurt the punctured skin under the wrappings (on top of hurting his pride). The spirit held them both palms-up between where they were sitting, using the index finger of his other hand to trace a pattern into his skin. "The hands are the easiest place to channel magic. You pull the majority of your energy from here -" he said, and prodded his finger into Link's chest, over his heart, "and through here." He used both of his hands to run them down Link's arms, resting them in his still outstretched palms. Link tried not to shiver from being touched, slightly ticklish.

He looked up at Ghirahim, who's eyes flicked upwards to lock with his, when suddenly the spirit smacked him gently on the cheek.

"Eyes closed. Concentrate on that energy."

Link wasn't sure when his simmering hatred had turned into more of a slight discomfort around Ghirahim, and he wanted to slap himself for immediately following the spirit's orders when shutting his eyes, opting instead to bring his train of thought back to the energy supposedly flowing through him. He could definitely feel something in his chest, something that felt like it had been there all this time but he'd only just noticed it, like when you become aware of having to blink or breathe, but he was sure it was just anxiety. Nevertheless, he tried to push it out of his chest and into his shoulders, pull it down his arms and have it fall into his hands...

...This felt stupid, and degrading, and he couldn't believe he'd _immediately_ shut his eyes when Ghirahim had told him to, what kind of-

"There we go," Ghirahim crooned in what sounded like a mixture of relief and pride (which would all be directed at himself for being such a _brilliant_ teacher, most likely) and Link opened his eyes to see a glowing, translucent ball in each of his hands. Ghirahim's own hands hovered above each of them as if to contain them or stop them floating away, and he didn't seem to be bothered by the aura that Link could feel radiating off of them.

"What is this?" Link said, unable to keep the amazement from his voice. He couldn't quite believe this was him, but it definitely was. He could feel it coming from himself.

"Energy. Magic." Ghirahim said simply. "It doesn't have a form right now, but that's what we're going to learn next."

.

As useful as blocking would be in a dangerous situation, both human and spirit had agreed that Link's offence was better than his defence, so they had began with that when starting over. Not more than an hour later, it seemed that Link had an aptitude for manifesting solid objects from energy, much to Link's dismay and Ghirahim's delight, since this had been the sword spirit's favoured technique for attacking in the past.

The first weapon he'd summoned, however, had been a bow and arrows, and were gold in hue, much unlike his teacher's black steel daggers and sabre. It took longer and a few more tries for him to generate a sword, and Link noted how Ghirahim's face contorted slightly in discomfort as his eyes fell upon the golden broadsword that so faithfully resembled the Blade of Evil's Bane.

Eventually they dropped spells and switched entirely to weapon-based combat, and Link felt reenergised to finally have a sparring partner on his level after so long. Ghirahim seemed more enthusiastic, too, enjoying being able to knock Link back without feeling any pain himself. He'd grin whenever it became a close call and one of them nearly hit the other, raising the stakes, and he barely spoke during this time, which gave Link some relief as well.

Hours passed, until the sun was low and blinding in the clear, cloudless sky, and Link let himself sink, panting, to the ground at a stream's edge. He groaned in relief as he splashed cool water over his face with his bandaged hands, soaking the wrapping, though he didn't really care. Ghirahim joined him, throwing the freshwater across his face with a satisfied sigh, which made Link wonder.

 _Did he sweat?_

"Why don't you need to eat?" He asked suddenly, and Ghirahim paused in the middle of rubbing water-covered hands over his face, peeking at the Hylian between his fingers with a questioning look. He lowered his hands slowly.

"I'm a spirit. I feed off the energy of the vessel I'm bound to." He explained, and gave Link a pointed look. The blonde's eyes widened, and he tried not to shudder as an image came to mind of glowing energy being sucked away from his body and being absorbed by the demon next to him, all while being completely unnoticed. "Obviously, that doesn't mean I _can't_ eat," Ghirahim added matter-of-factly, focusing on flicking the excess water off his hands as he said it.

That distracted Link temporarily. "Do you need to breathe?" He asked, and this time Ghirahim replied with a look that said _'really?'_. Link's face flushed. "I don't see why you would, unless your body works like a human's," he explained.

"Sky child," Ghirahim said, shifting back a little to turn his whole body towards Link, "This body can do everything a human body can do," he said, and Link didn't miss the suggestive undertone, "but you mustn't forget that I'm so much _more_."

The two locked gazes then, Ghirahim with narrowed eyes and a smirk, clearly still running on his own mix of pride, despite the circumstances. Link quickly felt uncomfortable, but Ghirahim unexpectedly let his gaze drop before the Hylian had to. All of a sudden the spirit stood, patting his immaculate clothes down before offering his hand to Link.

Link declined and stood by himself, and they headed off, back to home.

They'd decided to only warp in and out of the village, so the walk back through the woods was lengthy and quiet as Link got lost in his own thoughts, not paying attention to what Ghirahim was really doing. He thought back to the earlier comment about his energy being fed off of, and about the rules of the bond, and he couldn't help but wonder that, if all of that were true, how Ghirahim had survived after Demise had been killed.

A sharp pain rippled across his left palm, then, jerking him out of his thoughts. He sucked in air through his teeth and winced, grabbing his own hand reflexively with the other, before staring at the wrappings around it, frustrated, and lowering his hand in defeat.

Ghirahim looked over him as they continued walking. "Something the matter?"

Link shrugged. "Just my hand," he said, brushing it off.

He hoped this pain wouldn't last much longer.

 **.**

 **I don't know if I've ever said in my author's notes but, if you're interested in receiving updates, extracts and doodles about my fics (and other, non-ghirahim-related things), then you can find me on my Tumblr! My url is tornado-soup :)**


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